Wolf in London
by PB-J-Joker
Summary: Sherlock gets his next case... A werewolf who needs his help to find love, stop the bad guys and save humanity as we know it. I really am bad i summaries i know. First story so don't eat me alive. Rated T to be safe.
1. A New Client

**Hello Dear Readers… PB-J-Joker here. This is my first time posting and frankly… I'm terrified. This is going to be weird but... C'est la vie! My friends are making me do this… so don't blame me!**

John POV

Two days since Sherlock had finished his last case. He was losing it and clearly wanting his cigarettes. Today was defiantly not the day I expected to get any work done. How I was glad when our next client arrived.

It was a cool October; Mrs. Hudson had taken it upon herself to put up some decorations in the building. Sherlock was hardly caring; he was watching crap telly again, shouting that it was the boy's father. I rolled my eyes, such a bad idea to get him into that rubbish. Sherlock shouted,

"SHUT UP!"

At the once rung doorbell then I stated,

"A single ring."

"That and they only pushed it for a half second…"

We said it in rather perfect unison,

"Client."

Sherlock started to get excited and I called to Mrs. Hudson to show them in. I heard to door open and Mrs. Hudson start the conversation,

"Oh Hello dearie. Are you lost?"

I heard a famine commanding voice respond,

"No Ma 'dam I am here to see Mister Holmes."

Two sets of feet climbed to stairs and then stopped in the doorway.

"Multumasc Bunica."

Hrs. Hudson blinked in confusion then looked to us,

I'll leave you to it then."

Into our flat come a lovely young woman, no more than eighteen I'd bet. She had long curly black hair that rebelled against the Poney tail it had been forced into. Her face was soft and gentle, like a painter had created it as his masterpiece. Her creamy skin contrasted her large doe like eyes, those eyes were cold when they should have been full of life. Her posture was stiff and controlled. She had a commanding air to her, like a queen who was born to rule. She looked to Sherlock,

Mr. Holmes I persume?"

He looked her over once and gave a slight grin,

Yes."

She slightly bowed and turned to me,

Dr. Watson, a pleasure."

She bowed again but never let her eyes hit the floor. She was almost burning holes into me with those eyes. She seemed to be examining me and once she was satisfied that I was harmless she looked back to Sherlock,

I assume you already know where I'm from and who I am?"

Sherlock boredly looked toward the window,

Is Romanina as lovely as I've heard?"

She smiled and nodded, not puzzled at all. I knew Sherlock would be dying to tell how he knew so i asked,

How'd you know?"

He smiled,

That isn't the end of my deductions. You're the only child of strict parents and nether are afraid to punish you. You speak four no five langues: Latin, Romaninan, English, French and Italian. While you still are learning Greek and German. You come from a long line of traditions and hold them dear. You are close with your Grandmother but that didn't stop them from beating you. You normally go barefoot and this is your first time in London... am i wrong?"

She nodded and said,

Da"


	2. A WHAT?

**Hello Dear Readers... I know most of you will skip this but I forgot to do this last time...**

**-Sherlock: Of course you did stupied.**

**Mean... Any slut I do not own the characters except Cieline and the wolves. Sherlock belongs to his rightful owner.**

**-Sherlock: I belong to no one.**

**Shut up! You do not belong to me so I don't want to get into trouble. **

**-Sherlock: boring**

**You're impossible... back to the story *Pulls back curtain***

John POV

"How'd you know?"

I asked one more time. He smiled and started the break down,

"Her posture is stiff, unnaturally stiff for a girl her age, suggesting she learned it from a young age. The small scars by her neck tell me that she was beaten but they are on two side so two different styles making it two different hands so both parents. She speaks five langues because she pronounces her words differently depending on the root. She is Romanian because she spoke it to Mrs. Hudson, called her Grandmother too, suggesting she must look for like qualities in older women that resemble her grandmother. Since she was raised strictly she must be from an important family hence her traditions. She keeps twisting her heel in her shoe as if they are uncomfortable but it is a shoe that is famed with its comfort so she must not wear them often. It is her first time in london because in her bag along with a langue book for German and Greek there is a copy of London A to Z. However I am quiet curious about the old wedding ring on your left index finger."

She started to twist it off her finger with a smirk,

"Its not a wedding ring."

He scoffed as she handed him the ring,

"Always something."

"You forgot one major thing Mr. Holmes… Why I am here."

He was hardly paying attention as he examined the ring closer, he mumbled something of a response,

"I suppose yoou need my expertice on something?"

She nodded seriously,

"I have two things, both equally important and could potentially devastate or even destroy the human race as we know it."

I think both of our ears perked up at that. Sherlock was clearly holding back a grin, he handed the ring back and leaned back in his chair,

"Tell me some more about that."

She paced a bit,

"First things first, I don't think I said my name… Its Cieline. Now I'm not sure how you'll take this so here I go. As Sherlock stated I am from Romania, I'm from a group called Pachetul Regal, literally the Royal Pack. My father is the leader, the Alpha. I'm a Vacolac, a thing that goes bump in the night, a werewolf."

My brows raised, this girl must have been crazy if she thought she was a werewolf. Sherlock hopped out of his chair and headed to the door,

"I'm sorry Miss Cieline but I don't work with the insane so if you'll let yourself out."

She looked at him and stood up, she took off her leather jacket and closed her eyes. The room became warmer as her transformation began. Her size grew until she towered over Sherlock and the tips of her now wolf like ears were folded as she touching the eight foot ceiling.

She was on her hind legs but quickly went to all fours. Her body was so wolf like but she still had a few human traits. Her fur was a soft grey color that was accented by darker greys in many spots. She looked regal and confident but she was the size of a fucking horse. Oh God I had a horse sized Wolf- girl in my flat what the hell was I doing with my life?

She started to lay down, twisting herself so she wouldn't crush our furniture. She was so aware of us and our movements. She muscles were semi- tense but you could clearly tell that under all that fur was solid muscle. I inched closer wanting to see if she was as soft as she looked. I reached my hand out hoping it wasn't an illusion and it wasn't. The second I touched her fur I felt a bond to her, like this girl was something special to the world and I should feel lucky to touch her. She didn't move as i stroked the fur on her back. She looked at Sherlock as if betting he wouldn't believe her. I looked at Sherlock, he was in shock, I wish I had a picture of that face. He came over and pulled out his mini looking glass. He started to examine and poke her. I almost wanted to hit him, she was clearly here and was not ment to be studied like some side show freak. She kept her calm and relaxed her muscles a bit more. Sherlock started talking,

"Interesting, Very interesting."

He stood up straight and kept his eyes on her,

"John you see it don't you?"

"Yes I do."

I stroked her head again and she yawned. Sherlock stood up straighter,

"Well, we haven't been drugged… you can touch her and there are no inconstancies as far as I can tell. I haven't had ANY heroin as of late and we both can see her. So tell me how'd you do it?"

She huffed and stood up again, the transformation started again but in reverse she growled and winced as her human form returned. Once her natural form was back I looked away because she was nude. I quickly grabbed a jacket from my chair and handed it to her. She took it and pulled it on. All you saw were her long legs disappearing into the jacket and her arms that were crossed she walked up to Sherlock and looked him dead in the eyes,

"You can tell if people are lying… tell me Mr. Holmes… Am I?"


	3. Poisoning or Mating

**Hey Readers!**

** I finally was able to sit down and type with no (okay minimal) distractions. So without further ….. Squirrel! Ha… I'm not very funny I know. **

"No you are most defiantly not lying, I, however, don't believe in such nonsense as this."

She glared at Sherlock with a look that would send almost anyone running with their tails between their legs,

"I'm not asking you to believe it. I'm asking you to help me save my pack and possibly humanity."

He raised his eyebrow and motioned for her to sit and start explaining quickly. She obeyed and started to spin her tale,

"My father is very ill, poisoned. No one would believe me when I said it, but there is no other reason for him to be so sick. Many of our pack think he won't pull through his ailment. I had certain trusted people start gathering information before I left and trying to stop the poison before it kills him. I need you to help me find out who is doing this to my father…"

I was really confused,

"Sorry, but what does this have to do with the fate of humanity?"

She looked at me,

"My pack is very revered throughout the world. If the pack's Alpha died without an heir it makes the pack open to be taken over by any other pack. It would be an all-out power grab and the humans would be caught in the middle of it. My father left me as the next Alpha Female, my birthright and what I've been training for since I was born. I, however, am unmated so I cannot rule alone. An Alpha Female cannot rule without an Alpha Male and vice versa. It is a rule of the pack. "

Sherlock sat quietly taking in this information then spoke,

"So my choices are to help you find this Alpha Male or to deduce who is poisoning your father? I believe I'll take the poison, I was never one for match-making."

She half-smiled,

"Good, I was never one to get bounded at this age anyway."

I raised my eyebrows; these two would get along famously. She was a willing client with an interesting case and Sherlock a bored investigator with nothing to do, a match made in heaven. Sherlock smiled,

"Where to start?"

Celine smiled fully and looked down,

"Do you mind horribly if I put some clothes on first?"

Sherlock shrugged and Celine took her bag and headed toward the back bedrooms. I looked to Sherlock,

"This is insane, you do know how insane this is… don't you? A werewolf needs our help, amazing."

Sherlock looked distracted for a second and said,

"John it would be best not to mention anything our new client in your blogs."

I hadn't thought about it until now, and Sherlock was probably right that I not say anything about Celine. She came back out dressed and holding a laptop.

"I have a copy of our wolf database. We keep track of every wolf in our pack right down to the first time they had the sniffles. We also have a few other wolves from other packs; however their files aren't as detailed as we'd like. Wolves are very aware of things so it is hard to get information and have a central database, but we are working on it."

Sherlock began scrolling through the computer and stopped,

"Do you have anything else?"

She went to her bag and pulled out a small container, a book and a black box. She laid them out on the coffee table,

"A sample of normal werewolf blood, a book of our medical practices as well as some known poisons to our kind and of course a sample of my father's blood."

Sherlock opened the book and began to scan them and asking questions,

"What did he look like the last time you saw him?"

Celine shrugged,

"He was a pale sickly color, his eyes half glazed over, he could hardly move, he coughed often as if he had smoked for twenty years, but he's never touched a cigarette, his breath smelled sweet like sugar candies, he had a few seizures with no real damage."

Sherlock looked through the book then took the blood,

"We should get this to the…"

He was stopped by his phone,

"Yes…. I see…. Fine…. I'll meet you there."

He grabbed his coat and headed toward the door,

"Lestrade is waiting for us… there has been a murder by the Themes. Are you coming?"

Celine spoke out,

"What about my father?"

Sherlock groaned,

"This won't take, but a moment. I think a dose of reality will calm us all. Come John, Celine."

I looked to her and shrugged, she grabbed her scarf and we headed out into the cold October air. I hailed a cabby and we all piled in, Celine sat between Sherlock and me, she was clearly unset that Sherlock wasn't paying attention to her case, but I still saw her glance out at the scenery of London. The poor girl probably hadn't got to do any sightseeing since she arrived. I'd have to correct that soon.


End file.
